Tales from the Gemini Space Craft
by SuicidalAphrodite
Summary: Response to the 100 Word Bowie Drabbles challenge. One shot Drabbles pertaining to Jareth, or Sarah, or both.
1. Golden Years

**Author's Note: The following are 100 word drabbles for the Bowie Drabbles Challenge on the yahoo group Jareth/ David Bowie Fan Girl Harem. The challenge is based on the song title by Bowie that is posted every Monday, and a drabble relating the song to the Labyrinth is required. So here's mine. Hope it's enjoyable even if it's short. **

**Summary: Sarah has left Jareth after several years together in the Underground. Now she has gone, and Jareth has left his immortal world for the mortal one to wonder aimlessly, in search of answers. (Some drabbles may not be from Jareth's point of view, but most probably will be. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Duh. **

**~Golden Years~**

"I can't stay."

"Why?"

"Something is missing. I wanted to do more with my life than I can do here. It's better this way."

But it wasn't. His castle grew dark. Great thorns began to grow outside it's gates, and slowly suffocate it's pathways. When they reached the castle, he tested their beastly thorns with his fingers, feeling nothing as the blood pooled in his palm.

When the last inhabitant had fled the city's walls, he too left. Their golden years together had passed. He would go to her mortal world. He would discover what it offered that his did not.


	2. China Girl

_**~China Girl~**_

He holds her tight against his body, smelling the rich scent of her hair, running his fingers over her smooth skin. He lays her down, her dark hair spreading across the pillow, and kisses her throat. A scrape of teeth and a small noise escapes her full painted lips. The heat from her body warms his own but his mind is numb. He is an ocean away from the one whose memory he drowns in the perfume of another.

The woman raises her head, and he's forgotten her name.

"What's wrong?

"Shhh." He pushes her back against the pillows.

**A/N: Naughty Jareth. Thinking of one woman while romancing another. Shame shame.**


	3. I would be Your Slave

_**~I Would be Your Slave**_~

_Fear me, love me. _

The wind howled, a lonesome sound. He hid in shadow, staying well out of the orange lamplight pooling onto the snowy side walk. Through the parkhe followed her, beneath it's black, looming trees. Her breath was visible steam in the air before him. He reached it breathing in, retaining that small part of her.

_I would be your slave. _

She paused, head turning to the side. He ducked deeper into the shadows. He could tell that she was smiling. Was she laughing at him? Did she know he followed? She resumed walking. Snow fell slowly.

_**A/N: I like this one the best so far. I hope you like it too. **_


	4. Queen Bitch

_**~Queen Bitch~**_

Restless wondering has brought him to this defunct apartment building. He hears a car door slamming on the street, hears the buzzer in the apartment next door, where the old Ukranian man lives. She's forgotten her key again. Platforms on the linoleum stairs, raucous laughter shared with her companion. She is attractive, in her feminine masculinity.

Alone, he drifts to sleep

A shout awakens him. He opens his door, just a crack, to see her throwing the young man's bags into the hall. She turns, her heavily make-upped eye catching his. There are tears in it. He closes his door.

_That could've been me. _

_**A/N: Here's a bit of a back story so this image is a little clearer. Jareth, out of restlessness, unrequited love, what have you, has ended up in this derelict apartment building in a seedier part of some random large city. His neighbor is a drag queen whom Jareth finds attractive, intriguing. He has paid enough attention to her to know her habits. "That could have been me," in reference to the possibility that he envies the man who has had her affection, or perhaps he has seen his own sadness in her tears, or something to that effect. Hope you enjoyed. **_


	5. The Pretty Things are Going to Hell

_**~The Pretty Things are Going to Hell~**_

The mirror in his bathroom was cracked and dusty, but it held his reflection just the same. He studied himself. Were those lines by his mouth? At the corners of his eyes? Had this mortal world aged him? He pulled and tugged, trying to make the skin taut again. His eyes were strange to him now. In them he saw only his own reflection from the mirror reflected back. Before, there had been the light of his home glowing there, as it was with all immortal beings.

What did it matter? Everything was going to hell anyways.

**A/N: Okay guilty as charged. As you've probably noticed, I borrowed the whole eye reflection thing from "The Last Unicorn."** **I thought it was a great example of the mortal world changing immortal beings and what not. Hope you enjoyed. **


	6. Love You Till Tuesday

**~Love You 'Till Tuesday~**

She was in her old room. The full moon was just enough light as he climbed the apple tree outside her window. He felt silly, like a school boy suitor. It was a new feeling, as he hadn't been a boy for many centuries.

She sat on her bed in her simple beauty, hair falling around her face, reading. She had not aged during her time in his world, not that two years aged a person much.

His foot slipped, and the noise startled her. He wanted desperately to call out, tell her not to be afraid, but he didn't. When she came to the window, she saw only a white owl flying away against the moon.

**A/N: This one's a bit longer than it should be, but I could shorten any more. Thanks for reading. **


	7. Cat People

**~Cat People~**

_An ageless heart_.

"Do you believe in forever?"

"I'm immortal Sarah. Of course I do."

"I don't mean immortality. Forever as in, will you love me forever?"

"Forever and ever."

_Tears so blue._

"I could ever live with out you."

"You wont have to. You'll live forever if you stay here with me."

"I'll never leave, Jareth. I love you."

_For a thousand years._

_I love you._ The streets are empty. The words taste bitter, even in his mind.

_Just be still with me._

He paused, turning to stare up through a lighted window into a woman's kitchen. She turns, and sees him there. She stares for a moment before reaching forward and closing her blinds. He continues walking.

_It's been so long..._

**A/N: They just keep getting longer! I can't help it. I promise to be good. Also, I've changed the first chapter three times today before I was satisfied with it. Please check it if you're reading to make sure you've read the current (and permanent!) One. Thanks and enjoy!**


	8. John, I'm Only Dancing

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! Nothing!

**~John, I'm Only Dancing~**

"_Jareth, she's here."_

_The king turned, strange eyes searching the gauze and lace surrounding him. His heart leapt at the site of her, her innocence a glowing light in a room full of depravity._

_John's arm fell upon his shoulder. "Jareth, please, don't."_

_Jareth turned to meet his eyes. The young man pleaded silently._

_Jareth scoffed and moved away roughly from his touch. "Don't be ridiculous, John, I'm only dancing."_

The memory saddened him. She was gone. Maybe John would still have been here. After 300 years, he'd deserved better than what Jareth gave him.

**A/N: For clarification purposes, John was a lover present at the time that Jareth staged the ball with in a crystal to seduce Sarah. Despite Jareth's reassurance that she was merely a game to be played, John saw his replacement in her. Decades with Jareth, only to be forgotten in one night. **

**Hope you enjoyed. This one was tough. I realize I could have reworked things to fit a different idea, but I wanted to remain as true as possible to the original story in the song. **


	9. Everyone Says Hi

**Disclaimer:**** None of its mine. I pretend it is, but it's not.**

**~Everyone Says Hi~**

When the postcard finally reached him, it was tattered, seven months old, the corners soft with age. He had been wondering around London for nearly half a year, going to clubs and cafes.

On the postcard, there was a picture of some palm trees and sand. It read:

"_Dear Jarath, It is warm here in Burmuda Had to shave Loodo. Lots of coconutes and sand. Wish you wer here. Everyone says hi. -Hoggle. _

The first time in months, a smile found his thin lips.

He bought a cheap frame at five and dime around the corner and put it next to his bed.

**A/N: I love this song, but it was tough for me to do for some one. So this one is a little on the fluffy side compared to the others. Oh, and Hoggle's spelling errors are intentional. Even Ludo's name. **

**Anyways, enjoy. **


	10. Life on Mars?

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the song or the movie. Now that I'm done stating the obvious, off to the story. **

**~Life on Mars?~**

She was there again, in the front row at the crumbling cinema, the screen reflecting off her glasses, mousy brown hair hanging down her back. He waited for her that night, after the film, and walked her home. The shouts carried four houses away. They stood on her stoop. He promised to meet her the next evening, to walk to the cinema together. He delighted at the thought at seeing her again, not in a romantic way, for she was only thirteen, but in a companion sort of way. He felt protective of her.

The next day, her front stoop was empty and she walked to the theatre alone. The aging ticket man gave her a small white box that had been left for her. There was a crystal inside.

**A/N: Okay, this one is longer too. I couldn't keep it short. In fact, I included the longer version for your viewing pleasure. Hope you enjoy them both. **

The cinema was old, it's foundation crumbling, paint chipping. He'd been to it every weekend for the past three weeks, watching the old foreign films it ran every weekend. He liked the way it smelled, and he liked that no one else really went. Except for one girl. She's been there every night he'd gone. That night, he was sitting alone in the back when she made her way up the isle in her worn jumper, dusty mary-janes, mousy hair hanging down her back. She pushed her glasses up her nose as she sat in the front row.

When the film ended, he left quickly and waited for her outside. When she came out, her eyes fell upon him. She looked unsure.

"I won't hurt you." He said abruptly, afraid he seemed threatening.

She smiled at this. "I know. I've seen you here before."

"Can I walk you home? It's late."

"It's a pretty safe area."

He looked around as the shoddy buildings and shadow filled alleys. He raised a brow at her.

"Okay," she said. "You can if you want."

They talked as they walked, about the city and how it was trying to shut the cinema down.

"It's not making any money. Hasn't in years."

"That's unfortunate."

They reached her house, a small shabby number at the end of a street, with chipped, mint green paint and dead grass filling the yard.. He had heard the shouting three houses away. Glass was breaking inside. They stopped at the bottom of her stoop. She stared at him quizzically as he hesitated. He didn't want to leave her to deal with this.

"Does this happen often?" He asked.

"Yes."

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"I am sorry."

She shrugged and gave him a small smile. "Are you going tomorrow? They're showing 'La Belle et la Bete. It's really good. It came out in 1946."

He smiled and nodded. "I remember," he said before catching himself.

She cocked her head, looking at him strangely.

"I saw the list, at the theatre." He smiled, trying to cover his slip.

She didn't look convinced. But she smiled back at him.

"Would it be troublesome to meet me here? It was nice to have someone to talk to."

"I would be delighted." It was a genuine emotion, this delight he felt at the thought seeing her again, not in a romantic way, for she was so young, but perhaps he could protect her.

The next evening, her stoop was empty. She waited and finally walked to the cinema alone, feeling foolish and sunken. She stood outside, waiting, but her friend was no where to be seen. When she paid for her ticket, the ancient ticket man gave her a small white box, saying it'd been left for. Holding it close to her chest, she carried it to the front row with her. When it was dark and she was alone with the old film, she opened the box. Inside was a small glass sphere. She held it up and it reflected the light from the screen. It was a strange gift. She tucked it safely back into the box, her eyes glued to the screen.

~Fin~

**A/N: Relevant lyrics: **

It's a god-awful small affair  
>To the girl with the mousy hair<br>But her mummy is yelling, "No!"  
>And her daddy has told her to go<br>But her friend is nowhere to be seen  
>Now she walks through her sunken dream<br>To the seat with the clearest view  
>And she's hooked to the silver screen.<p> 


	11. Be My Wife

**Disclaimer:**** I own everything! It's all mine! MUAHAHAHAHAHA! Okay not really. Not even close. **

**~Be My Wife~**

She held the crystal like it was a part of her. She lay on her bed, eyes closed, trying to keep his face from fading from her mind. She imagined his lips, the words she would say if she saw him again.

_Please be mine._

He would smile then, warmly.

_Share my life._

His fingers would caress her cheek.

_Stay with me._

He would hold her then, tightly in his arms and kiss her hair. The words he would say would make her heart sing. She would be free of this place.

_Be my wife. _

Sometimes she got so lonely.

**A/N: ****In case you didn't catch on, this character is the girl from Life On Mars.** **Hope you enjoyed. **


	12. New Killer Star

**Disclaimer:**** Nothing is mine. Except my imagination, and even that has a mind of it's own. **

**~New Killer Star~**

_I've loved you for so long that I don't really remember a time before I did. There were centuries before you, and I had many stars in my sky. They all burned so bright. You burn the brightest. It's deadly, this love and longing building up in me. It's idiotic, this trance you put me in. I remember everything, my love. The trees at the park where you played your game, the rain on the sidewalk when you ran home that fateful day. All the stars are in your eyes, dear one. I miss you so._

_**A/N: **_**This one was tough. I hope it's okay. Just you know who being all sentimental and slushy. **


	13. Seven

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the song, the movie, or the characters. This is for sh*ts and giggles.

**~Seven~**

An owl sat outside his window. A coincidence, but Jareth felt akin to it. He spoke to it because he had no one else.

"I don't remember my father, or my mother. I suppose they existed, but their faces are a mystery. It's strange. I remember our home, though. I have this vivid memory of a bridge, flowers everywhere. I think my mother must have loved flowers. I think I had a brother because I can remember him crying. I was smaller than he, but I remember he was crying. Some one had forgotten us." His voice faded.

The owl remained silent.

**A/N: Jareth remembering, or trying to remember pieces from his childhood. **


	14. The Man Who Sold the World

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the Labyrinth.**

**~The Man Who Sold the World~**

The Underground was a silent tomb, blackened and silent. Empty. He shouldn't have come back.

A small sound on the rubble behind him made him turn. A small blue worm moved slowly along the rock. It saw Jareth and it frowned. He moved closer to it.

"I thought you died alone, a long, long time ago." The worm gazed at him.

"Oh no, not me." Jareth answered.

"Who is it, dear?" a small voice called from within the crevice in the rock.

"No one, dear, just the man who sold the world." The little creature gave Jareth a sad look and scooted away down the rock.

**A/N: Jareth returns to the Underground after having been gone for nearly two years. A land of dreams cannot survive without a dreamer.**


	15. Fashion

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the Labyrinth or the song. **

**~Fashion~**

Shadowed streets. Night creatures. Jareth made his way through the back streets and deserted lots. A noise drew him into an alley, a young man crying out. Three crowded around one as a syringe hit the pavement. The mans eyes fluttered as his lips formed silent words.

"What is that?" Jareth gestured to the needle.

"That's a brand new dance, man. For people from bad homes, man," one answered, watching his friend.

"Is he alright?"

Laughter. "Yeah man, he loves it."

Jareth saw the man's eyes, full of tension and fear. He turned and swiftly walked away.

**A/N: This one took a while to come up with. It's kind of choppy because I had to cut so much but I still like it. Hope you do! **


	16. Look Back in Anger

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own the Labyrinth, it's characters, the song, or the video, or anything else of any value. **

**~Look Back in Anger~**

She painted his face because he wouldn't leave her mind. She painted him with large white owl wings bursting from his shoulder blades. She tried not to be angry, but she was, at him and at herself. How dare he expect her to give up everything for him. And how dare she want more than he could give. She felt the anger in her voice when she spoke, knew that people saw it in her eyes when they looked at her. She'd waited so long for him to come begging her to return, but he hadn't. It'd been two years.

**A/N: Sarah regrets leaving Jareth. She has waited for two years for him to find her and ask her back to the Underground. But he hasn't come. **

**-Based loosely off the video for this song. Check it out if you haven't seen it. It's strange and awesome. **


	17. The Motel

**Disclaimer:**** This is a work of fan fiction. I own nothing. **

**~The Motel~**

This motel is like many he's seen. In America, Europe, else where. They are all the same.

He lays on the lumpy bed, staring at the ceiling, with its missing plaster chunks and brown water stains. He closes his eyes and remembers running his fingers along the taut skin of her stomach, tracing lazy circles.

"_Don't hold back from me," he'd said. "There is no shame."_

"_This is Eden," she'd said, smiling up at him as they lay in the grass._

"_It's not Eden, but there is no shame_."

The hours passed. Somewhere, a faucet dripped. He lay without moving.


	18. I Can't Read

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the Labyrinth or it's characters.**

**~I Can't Read~**

When his letter came, she couldn't read it. Her heart ached. There was no name, no return address, but she knew by the way he'd written her name. She left the letter on her bed and sat by the window, staring at it. A police car drove by on the street below, and the neighborhood was quite. She pictured his smile. She had tried to write him a thousand times, just to get things off her chest. She couldn't get it right.

Would the letter ask her back? Did she want it to?

**A/N: Wah wah wah, Sarah. That's what you get for breaking up with a Goblin King. Nobody here feels sorry for you. **


	19. Moonage Daydream

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing.**

**~Moonage Daydream~**

He was drunk, on the balcony of a hotel in Barcelona, staring out over the Mediterranean. He watched the sun set and the moon rise, nearly full and tinted in gold glow.

It occurred to him that the moon really had been man's final frontier. A mortal man, more than one actually, had traversed the moon's surface, and he, great King that he was, had never dared. No one in the Underground dreamed of the night sky as the Aboveground had. Perhaps this was what his home lacked, this determination to better it's self, to explore places normally out of bounds to it. Did the immortal realm feel as though it was above the petty explorations of man? Did it already feel as though it had all the answers because it had magic?

Even if Sarah became his Queen one day, she was of this mortal stock, born of this curious, ever-reaching people. She would never find satisfaction. He could not give her this, could he? He had never moved the stars, even though he could, but he had never visited them either. Was this daydream the essence that drove Sarah to return to this mortal realm? Was this moonage daydream that mankind shared better than any dreams he could give her?

Jareth stood, stumbled slightly and poured his bottle over the edge of the balcony. Drinking had never suited him.

**A/N: Okay I hope that the idea I intended to get across actually did. I could literally think of nothing to do with this song for the longest time! I mean I love this song and I thought it would be easy because it's always been kind of a love song to me. But it was the hardest! So instead, I used the term "moonage daydream" as a metaphor for man's constant desire to invent new things, see new parts of the world and space, know more things than the last generation. Jareth now questions why his world has never gone in search of new things and if this is what Sarah found lacking in the Underground. **

**And yes, this one is way longer than a drabble should be. Sue me. **


	20. Heroes

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing!**

**~Heros~**

It was a crystal, nothing more, nothing less. But when he looked into it, it showed him his dreams:

_A wedding day he would never see. Two lovers, hands clasped. There was nothing to keep them together, but he knew that even if the world fell down, they would kiss as if nothing could fall. If war came to their lands, and guns shot above their heads, they could steal time and beat any adversary. _

_They would be heros, King and Queen. Eternity would be but a day. _

The sand was white as snow, covering his toes. The saltwater lapped at his feet. He knelt, letting the crystal roll slowly into the water. Perhaps it would find it's way home.

**A/N: Arg! This one was hard. I don't know how I feel about it. I like the imagery, but I don't know how well this flows. Please feel free to give your opinion if you like. I promise not to send you to the bog. Happy Trails!**


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